


Instructions Unclear

by dremma



Series: Saving Private Loco [2]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, M/M, Post-Season/Series 15, Red Team Locus | Samuel Ortez
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:39:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29759748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dremma/pseuds/dremma
Summary: Snapshots of Loco’s new life on Iris as he tries to fit in with the Reds and Blues, or at least not make things worse. Caboose is convinced bad people can become good again, but the path between bad and good seems like it’s covered in thick fog, and Loco isn’t sure where to put his feet. Luckily, Sam’s been down the same path already.(Red team!Sam borrowed from Saturn_The_Almighty, links in notes)
Relationships: Dexter Grif/Dick Simmons, Loco & Michael J. Caboose, Locus | Samuel Ortez/Sarge
Series: Saving Private Loco [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2186220
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	Instructions Unclear

**Author's Note:**

> Saturn_The_Almighty’s Red Team!Sam/Locus series lives in my head rent-free, so when I started writing this, Red Team ended up being super heavily influenced by Saturn’s lovable bastards, so maybe go read these first? Absolutely enchanting, it’s in my ‘constant re-reads’ bookmarks folder. ^_^ 
> 
> [He Looks Good In Red](https://archiveofourown.org/series/890745) by [Saturn_The_Almighty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saturn_the_Almighty/pseuds/Saturn_the_Almighty)  
> Super slow-burn Sarcus but even if that's not your thing, Sam's character development is just *chefs kiss*

Since the dinosaurs got wiped out and Scary Agent Carolina had made them promise not to use any real weapons until she got back to supervise them, they’d all been out of armor for a few weeks. Loco liked the newfound freedom, soaking in the warmth of the sun and the caress of the breeze on his skin and running his feet through the silky grass. He hadn’t been able to do that at Desert Gulch because there wasn’t any grass, just spiky cactuses and spiky bushes with leaves like knives, and he remembered how embarrassing and painful it had been to have Temple watching angrily while Doc pulled cactus prickers out of his feet and made terrible cactus-based puns.

Caboose was helping him a lot with adjusting to the base, showing him all the cool spots around the moon, and reminding him when he got lost (he got lost a lot). Sometimes the others looked at them funny when Caboose would hold his hand for a long time, but Loco liked it. It meant Caboose wasn’t leaving him, and if he needed anything Caboose was right there. And he thought sometimes that maybe Caboose needed someone to hold hands with, especially since he missed Church a lot still. Holding hands felt nice, and made the hurt of missing people feel a little less bad.

Caboose was super excited to hike to the top of the cliffs today, because there were a bunch of new and weird alien flowers blooming up there lately. Tucker had made sure they both took canteens of water, some protein bars, sunscreen and jackets and wore their hiking boots, and helped Caboose set his watch alarm so they could both be back for dinner because Sarge was doing beach barbeque night. 

As much as Caboose said he didn’t like Tucker, Tucker was still really nice in actions even if his words were mean. He was kind of like a mom. He did actually have a kid. Junior didn’t visit a lot because he had to go to school, but he seemed nice enough. Loco sometimes joined in on their basketball games. Caboose was a little too uncoordinated for it so mostly he sat on the sidelines and cheered against Tucker specifically. Tucker preferred that to being constantly hit in the head with a basketball. No matter where Caboose was trying to aim it always seemed to hit people in the head.

Loco was surprised Tucker helped him with stuff for the hike too, but maybe he was just indirectly helping Caboose. Tucker still kind of seemed mad with him, especially since he was responsible for messing with Church’s message to trick the Reds and Blues into coming to Desert Gulch. Tucker missed Church a lot too, but his grief was more prickly anger than the all-consuming sadness that seemed to envelop Caboose sometimes.

As they hiked, Caboose rambled on about things around them, and stories from all their wild adventures, and things about people on their teams. Loco listened, but he was thinking about other things too. Sad things, mostly. Caboose had Tucker and his friends from the other team here on Iris, and aside from the Freelancers and Church, no one was missing. Loco’s entire multi-colored team was locked up in the UNSC prisons…and Caboose’s friends didn’t seem to like him being here, even though they’d agreed to take him along before the MPs rounded up the rest of the crew.

They paused to rest at a pretty overlook ringed with trees. Caboose and Lopez had previously dragged a few benches up so that people could sit there. Loco took a long swig from the canteen and sighed.

“Hey, Mikey… I think your friends are still mad at me. And I think, well, maybe they should be. I helped Temple hurt them a lot. I helped Temple hurt you, too.” Caboose looked at him with wide, sad eyes.

“Yeah… but, you helped me, too. You made a door so I could say goodbye to Church. And, I know that he’s really gone now. But it doesn’t hurt so bad as it did before. It hurt a lot. And now… now it doesn’t so much.” Caboose reached out for Loco’s hand, and squeezed it kindly when Loco offered it. “And, well. Everyone makes mistakes. But that doesn’t always make us bad people.” Caboose smiled cheerfully at Loco’s sorrowful expression. “Even if you did bad things, you can still try to do good things! I mean, just look at Locus!”

Loco tilted his head. “My name is Loc- ** _o_**.”

“No, I meant Locus! Well, his name is really Sam.” Caboose leaned in and lowered his voice to a stage whisper. “Locus is a _code name_.” He nodded conspiratorially, and raised his voice again. “He’s our other friend who used to be an evil bad guy but now he doesn’t kill people anymore and he’s our friend!” Caboose’s gaze drifted off into the wild blue sky. “He’s off on some super secret mission in his cool space ship named something cool that I don’t remember to help some people and fight other bad guys but he’ll be back in a couple weeks. Probably. He’s just not here right now.”

“He sounds like a cool guy,” Loco said, glancing into the sky as if he could see what Caboose was staring at. Caboose whipped his head back around, chocolate curls bouncing around his face. He was grinning.

“He’s really cool! I will have to introduce you when he comes back!”

He smiled down sadly at his canteen. “Hey Mikey…”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for being my friend.” Loco grinned as Caboose’s eyes lit up, and he wrapped his arms tightly around Loco and picked him up in a giant bear hug.

“And thank you for being mine!” Caboose shouted excitedly. As Loco laughed, he felt some of the weight leaving his chest for the first time since Temple had taken them to Earth.

\--

Caboose had moved things around in the Blue team’s lab to make space for Loco’s experiments and tinkerings excitedly, yammering on about the cool things he made and being excited for things Loco would make. It was nice to have a space to work that wasn’t humid and leaky.

Loco put his chin in his hand thoughtfully. He was gonna need new parts to do anything. Caboose watched him closely, and then nodded as if coming to a conclusion.

“You’re right, it is missing something. A super cool name tag. Like mine!” Caboose gestured grandly to a macaroni-art monstrosity hanging over his own corner of the lab that spelled “CABOSE”. Loco smiled. 

“Well, I was thinking that I might need to get some new parts, since all my stuff is at the underwater base. But a name tag is cool too! Did you make it, Mikey?”

“Yup!” Caboose said proudly. “I can help you make one for your place too! If you want.”

“That sounds like fun! Let’s do it!”

\--

“Caboose, did you steal the fucking scissors again?” Tucker shouted, wandering into the lab with a packet of particularly hard-to-open snacks. “I keep telling you, you gotta put it back where you…” He stopped, and stared at the new, glitter-and-macaroni-riddled addition on the wall above Loco’s lab bench. “I can’t believe I have to look at this with my own two fucking eyes.”

He turned and leaned out of the door frame, shouting down the hall. “CABOOSE!”

“TUCKER DID IT!” came a shout from much further down.

“Caboose, if I fucking took the scissors I’d know where they were!” Tucker yelled back, stomping out of the lab.

“TUCKER TOOK IT!”

“DAMMIT CABOOSE!”

\--

“Hey Caboose, I’m done fixing Freckles! Go on, Freckles!” 

Mini-Freckles took a few stompy steps away from where Loco set him on the floor and looked up at Caboose.

“Freckles! You’re all better now!” Caboose shouted happily.

“Freckles, activate… SUPER POWERS!” Loco yelled, raising his fists into the air.

“AFFIRMATIVE.” Jets set into his feet activated and lifted Mini-Freckles off of the ground. Caboose’s mouth fell open in awe.

“OH... MY... GOD! FRECKLES CAN FLY?! WASH ARE YOU LOOKING?! WASH! WASH!!-- Oh wait he’s at the doctor’s. I HAVE TO RECORD THIS FOR WASHINGTON!”

Caboose crammed his helmet onto his head and turned on the camera as Freckles flew around in circles, encouraged by Loco’s whooping and yelling.

"FRECKLES!! CAN YOU DO A LOOP-DEE-LOOP?" Freckles sailed around in a loop, and the crowd went wild.

“What on earth are you idiots doing in here?” Carolina peeked her grumpy, tired face into the laboratory doorway and squinted.

“PRINCIPAL CAROLINA! FRECKLES CAN FLY!!!” 

She raised an eyebrow and watched the miniature Mantis zip around the room.

“That _is_ pretty cool…” She glanced between the two Blues and sighed. “But it’s _three in the morning_ and some people are still trying to sleep.”

“Oh! Oh I-- I’m so sorry, Carolina, I did not mean to interrupt your beauty sleep.” Caboose blanched at the raised eyebrow. “I mean, not that you need beauty sleep, you are a very beautiful lady--”

“ _Caboose_.”

“Yes.”

“It’s _fine_. You two should try to get some rest, as well,” she added, noticing Loco stifling a huge yawn. He’d probably been working on the project with hyperfocus tunnel vision since before yesterday’s dinner. “Freckles will still be able to fly in the morning,” she reminded them, unable to keep a grin from creeping up on her face.

“Okay, good night, Miss Carolina! Come on, Freckles and Loco!” Caboose grabbed Loco’s hand and swept Freckles out of the air under his arm and hurried through the door.

“Good night, Miss Carolina. Sorry for waking you up!” Loco shouted as he was dragged along.

Carolina raised a hand in goodbye as they disappeared around the corner, and gave a huff of laughter. She hadn’t been terribly certain about Loco’s presence here, but he certainly wasn’t evil, and having him around seemed to be doing Caboose a world of good as well, even if they were getting up to benign mischief at odd hours of the night.

Sighing, she ran her hands through her hair and wandered back to her own room. His manipulated message led to them being captured by Temple and Wash getting shot, but it wasn’t like he orchestrated the whole mess. It was likely he’d had no idea the Freelancers were even trapped within the base. His mind was completely filled with his machines and abstractions and theory, and the cause and effect of life happening around him was more or less coincidental. She sat down on the bed and rubbed her face.

Three in the fucking morning was probably the worst time to be thinking about all this. She turned back over and tried her best to sleep.

\--

Caboose sat on a stool next to Loco in the lab, arms crossed on the table and his head laid heavily on top of them, listening to Loco talk about what he was working on. It was hard to follow, like usual. Loco was really smart. Like, really, really smart, and he got to talking about things like Simmons did, with a lot of weird and big words that didn’t really make much sense to anyone but the person talking. But that was okay.

He liked to be able to listen for Loco, and hearing his friend’s voice rambling on like nothing was wrong was a big comfort. Especially on days like today, when he woke up to rain clouds in his head that wouldn’t go away. He was trying not to think about Church, but the sadness just wouldn’t go away.

Loco had stopped talking, and had put down the toy parts and his tools. “Mikey… you don’t look good. Do you feel sick? Do you wanna go back to bed?” Caboose shook his head.

“I’m… I’m sorry, Loco. I was trying really hard to be a good listener because you have so much interesting stuff to say. But… today is… today is hard.” He tried to give Loco a watery smile as his friend patted his shoulder with a heavy hand.

“Well, you don’t have to listen, just rest!” Loco tilted his head, thinking. “I’ll proooobably keep talking though. It helps me work.”

Caboose nodded, blinking back a few tears. “Thanks, Loco. You’re--you’re a really good friend.”

\--

A few weeks later, Sarge threw an impromptu beach barbeque because Locus was returning early. Grif seemed especially energetic because Sam had started making a habit of finding specialty snacks for him while he was out doing whatever stuff he was up to. Grif still wouldn’t actually show up to the barbeque until the food was done, however. He had a reputation to uphold. Mostly he just bothered Simmons while Simmons puttered around the kitchen putting side dishes together and arranging burger fixings while smacking Grif’s hands away from the food so he didn’t eat it all before the barbeque even started.

Donut had dragged them into a game of beach volleyball (with a regular volleyball - Caboose had kept calling it a “volleybomb” and Loco had been worried until he’d seen Donut with equipment in hand) while Sarge and Lopez manned the grill, trying to get the plasma-powered flame griller to start up. Loco knew better than to offer help with Sarge’s harebrained creations by now, though. Loco’s brand of mechanical chaos and Sarge’s mixed like lightning and water. Better to just let Lopez deal with it.

They all dropped what they were doing when the A’rynasea landed, Donut and Caboose running eagerly to the lowering ramp where Sam was exiting the ship, his stroll still looking very much like a murderous stalk, but that didn’t seem to stop his friends. 

“Sam! You’re back! And just in time for the barbeque!” Donut threw his arms around Sam’s armored form in a dramatic hug.

“Hello, Donut.” Sam took off his helmet and raised an eyebrow at the beach. “I thought the barbeque wasn’t until Thursday.”

“Welcome back, Mr. Samuel! How was your trip! We have a new friend now!” Caboose yelled, holding up the hand he was holding Loco’s hand with. Loco smiled awkwardly. Sam spared them a small smile before Sarge brushed through the crowd, chastising them.

“You idiots don’t need to be crowding him like this, let him settle in a minute before you swarm him like a bunch of Covvies.” Unheeding of his own advice, Sarge stepped forward and kissed him warmly, with two hands cupping his cheeks.

“Ope! Come on, Donut and Loco, that means we have to go away for a minute,” Caboose said, grabbing Loco and Donuts’ hands and leading them back to the beach. Donut gave an excited squeal.

“Oh, I love it! They’re so cute together!”

“Dios mio,” Lopez droned, flipping another burger with a flourish onto the grill. He was really getting handy with those spatula tricks.

“Yo, Sam! Quit suckin’ face and get over here, we need you to counter Donut’s spikes!” Tucker yelled from the beach, volleyball on his hip under his arm.

Sarge and Sam shared a chuckle, and Sarge returned to the grill with a quick peck on Sam’s cheek.

“Beat it, Blue! You quit badgerin’ him, he’ll come join us when he’s ready.”

“Aw, that’s quitter talk! All I see are a couple of old farts being quitters!”

“Lavernius Tucker.” Tucker gulped as Sam loomed up in front of him. Did he really have to use the scary murder voice? “In five minutes, I will return to secure their destruction.”

“O...okay.”

“Yay! Sam is going to play Volleybomb with us!”

“Caboose you’re not even playing.”

“Well, I am cheering for everyone who is not you! That is helping.”

“No it’s not! You said you were on my team anyway! Why are you cheering _against_ me?!”

Sam turned to enter the base, his bag slung over his shoulder and helmet under his arm. To his credit, it really only did take him five minutes to change and stash his gear and return dressed in an olive drab shirt and what were clearly Sarge’s bright red shorts, long dark hair pulled back into a messy bun, and green-tinted sunglasses on his nose.

Loco tried not to stare at the “x” scar carved into his face. It definitely made him look more scary, but he seemed pretty relaxed at the moment, more intent on “destroying” Donut and Loco at volleyball. Loco bent his knees slightly, and furrowed his brows. This guy was a tough customer, and it was time to get serious if they wanted to keep their lead.

Simmons pushed a hover cart out from the base not too long after with a noisy announcement for everyone to get the fuck out of the way for a minute. It was covered with meticulously arranged dishes neatly sealed with plastic wrap to keep the bugs (and Grif) out. Loco had made the cart for the Red Team because at the previous barbeque, Simmons had made Grif help bring dishes outside, and none of the food ever made it to the table. Caboose had been devastated that there wasn’t any of his favorite macaroni salad.

Simmons had even dragged Grif outside somehow, even though the burgers weren’t done, to watch the game. Grif seemed partially mollified by the weird Chorus snacks Sam had taken the time to bring him, and he and Simmons shared them as they watched Sam and Tucker beat the living snot out of Donut and Loco. Grif tried to fend Caboose off from the snacks, but eventually gave up and let him try one.

Sarge yelled that it was chow time, and Donut grumbled.

“I was just warming up! You guys blew _right_ past the foreplay and hammered us _hard_!”

"Donut, for the _love of God,_ " Simmons groaned.

“Well, gentlemen,” Sam rumbled, trying to keep from laughing, “have you been humiliated enough for one day?”

“Yeah,” Tucker laughed, “I think 37 to 5 is pretty clear you’re not warming up, Donut. Just admit you suck and you guys lost!” He just laughed harder as Donut stuck out his tongue. 

Donut huffed and turned to Loco. “Well, team, we made a valiant effort, but without any fuel I don’t think we’re gonna survive this massacre.” He patted Loco’s shoulder and flounced off to the grill where a line was forming with Grif at the head. Sarge was already laying into him for being first in line when he didn’t help out.

“Yes! Hamburger time!” Caboose shot up and grabbed Loco’s hand. “Sarge makes the best hamburgers!! And Simmons made macaroni salad! Loco are you hungry?” Loco nodded, grateful for Caboose’s support. Donut was really good at making people feel included but he still felt awkward when everyone else was around.

Sarge muttered something about ‘dirty Blues’ but piled Loco’s plate up high with hamburgers at the grill same as everyone else and nodded at him with a paternal smile. Caboose waved at him from his bright blue beach chair around the fire, and he settled into a nearby one. With everyone digging into their food, talking, and laughing, and the cheery warmth of the fire, he almost felt at ease. 

\--

Loco had been surprised to find that the scary ex-mercenary was dating the also-scary-but-differently-scary sergeant, but they seemed to understand each other, and the whole of Red Team even seemed more settled now that they were all back together.

As night fell and the bonfire burned lower, the Reds and Blues wandered off to their own devices, yelling goodnight to each other. Tucker was the first to leave, saying he needed to get back to FaceTime with Junior before he had to get ready for bed. Grif hovered around Simmons as he tidied up the dishes to take inside, grumbling and accepting a stack of grilling utensils as Simmons shoved them into his hands. They ambled back towards the base together, bickering the whole way. Sarge left last, pressing a kiss to Sam’s temple and squeezing his shoulder. No words were exchanged, but Sam smiled up at him warmly as he left.

Loco tried not to think too hard about his own team, and what they were up to, with little success. Being stuck in prison, he guessed, maybe angry with him for not following the plan, maybe wondering if he was dead. Maybe not thinking about him at all. Temple would. He gulped. Temple would be mad. Shaking his head free of the unpleasant thoughts, he pulled stems from a nearby cluster of sand reeds and fed them bit by bit into the dwindling fire.

Caboose had passed out snoring in his special blue beach chair, with a blanket tucked over him. Sam was still slowly sipping at a bottle of ginger ale quietly, watching the flames with disinterest, perhaps mulling over his own unpleasant thoughts. Perhaps just tired. The flames flickering on his glossy red-painted nails changed the hue back and forth from deep red to dancing yellows and oranges. 

Loco wondered if everybody painted their nails here. Sometimes Donut came over and painted Caboose's nails a cheery royal blue just like his armor, sometimes with little red dots to match Freckles. He shook his head. No, nails could wait. He was getting sidetracked. He'd wanted to ask him something. Now was probably a good time since they were mostly alone. 

“Hey, um, Mr. Locus?” He startled as the scary man’s cloud-colored eyes swung over to him without the rest of his face moving.

Sam wondered vaguely if Loco thought ‘Locus’ was his last name. “You can just call me Sam, Loco.”

“Right, um. Mr. Sam. Um… can--can I ask you a question?”

Sam was quiet for a moment, but murmured, “You may.”

Loco struggled for a minute, trying to make sure what he said wouldn’t make Sam mad. “Caboose said you used to hurt people, but you’re trying to be good now. And… I used to hurt people. But I want to try to be good again. I’m just… I don't know what I should be doing. Do you have any advice for that?”

Sam gave him a long, studious look, and took another sip from the bottle. “I heard you gave Freckles the ability to fly,” he rumbled. Loco tilted his head.

“Well, yeah, but…”

"And you fixed the water slide."

"Yeah…" Loco wondered what this had to do with what he asked.

“Simmons is quite pleased with the hover cart, and I believe the rest of us are as well, since we finally get to try the food before Grif gets to it.”

Loco nodded. The potato salad had tasted just like his Aunt’s. Well, the lady who had adopted him, after the people took him away from his wolf family. She liked when he called her Aunt Bertie. She was nice.

“You manage to provide Caboose with comfort on his bad days.”

“Yeah…” Even if Caboose was just sitting next to him, arms folded on the lab table while Loco rambled about his work, it did seem like he felt a little better whenever they got up to leave for lunch or whatever.

“And despite the odd…” Sam raised an eyebrow as he decided on his word choice, “ _assortment_ of controls that have been installed, you’ve improved all of the electrical systems in the base."

“Yeah, that--that didn’t seem very safe,” Loco said. “I don’t think whoever did it first knew what they were doing.”

This garnered a snort from the other man. Loco looked up hurriedly, but the ghost of a smile was already fading from Locus’ face. “No, I doubt he did.” Loco startled again when Locus met his eyes, but this glance was kinder, warmer. “You’re already doing things to help people, Loco. I think you just need to keep doing… what you’re doing.”

Loco smiled widely, and looked back at the fire. They both glanced up as Caboose gave a loud, chain-saw like snore and turned over in his chair, nearly upending it. 

"Whoa--!" He gave a sleepy hum and sat up, rubbing his eyes. “Awww… everyone’s gone! Campfire time is over?”

“Not quite yet, Caboose,” Locus rumbled, a fond smile softening his face. Loco watched him in amazement. He’d seen the same smile earlier when he’d arrived, but from all the stories everyone told, this guy was a stone-cold terrifying special ops guy who could kill without effort or thought… and he was smiling at Caboose in a way that was nice, not scary.

Caboose really was something special in the way he could accumulate friends just by being in their orbit. Caboose smiled as he noticed Loco, who waved at him.

“Loco is here too! It can still be campfire time!”

"Just for a little bit, but then you two should go to bed.” Locus dragged another two bottles out of the cooler filled with mostly-melted ice and handed one to each of the Blues.

Caboose moved his chair excitedly between them so he could tell them about the super cool awesome dream he was having, and Loco helped him pop the top off his bottle so they could all share the ginger ale. 

Just keep doing what he’d been doing… yeah. He could do that.

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: I didn’t find a way to work this in, but Sam absolutely has Donut paint his nails red right before he leaves for his missions as a reminder of who’s waiting for him at home. :’)
> 
> Thank u Saturn for letting me borrow your wonderful version of Red Team Sam :')


End file.
